


Battles we fight

by IneffableDemon



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Gives Advice, Aziraphale-centric (Good Omens), Background Ineffable Spouses, Deep Conversations, He/Him Pronouns for Aziraphale, He/Him Pronouns for Warlock, Hopeful, Modern time period, Phone Calls, Post-Canon, Questioning Warlock, Warlock dowling - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:21:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27084784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableDemon/pseuds/IneffableDemon
Summary: It was a nice, peaceful day at the bookshop, when a sudden call interrupts Aziraphale's relaxing day. It's Warlock, and Aziraphale is quite pleased to hear from him, but turns out the poor boy has some pressing questions and trusts his gardener to answer them.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Warlock Dowling, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 52
Collections: Our Side Zine: Coming Out 2020





	Battles we fight

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to all the creators of the Our Side Zine! You all did a wonderful job <3  
> Thanks to [Deamonia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deamonia/pseuds/Deamonia) for the beta <3

**CW/TW:** Implied Homophobia, Implied Peer Pressure, Mild Profanity

It was a blessedly quiet day in the bookshop. It had been surprisingly nice so far too, given it was already fall and constant rain was to be expected. Aziraphale had decided that, with it being such a beautiful day, the ideal situation was that no potential customer dared to come in and interrupt his peace. An aura of something difficult to describe surrounded the shop, scaring off any human who might otherwise have felt courageous enough to even take a look at the angel’s place.

Aziraphale was humming and milling about in the bookshop, taking advantage of the gorgeous sunlight pouring in through the window to order his books in a way that only he could truly understand and appreciate. Although he had the strong suspicion that Crowley would be able to grasp the intricacies of his method if he ever paid enough attention to it. And maybe he did but decided to pretend he didn’t. Aziraphale smiled despite himself as he adjusted the pile of books he was carrying. He walked them over to the intended shelf, still humming to himself, and put them down delicately.

However, the moment he was about to start pulling the books out of that shelf to substitute them with the ones in the pile, an unusual sound broke through the silence of the bookshop, interrupting his off-tune hum. Aziraphale looked around, suddenly a bit scared.

Was Heaven coming for him, now, after everything that had happened?

After a couple of seconds of confusion, he placed the unfamiliar ring—it was his old rotary dial phone ringing from the back of the shop. Feeling relieved and a bit silly, he wrinkled his nose at the prospect of answering. No human being would be able to enter the bookshop but he had failed to take into account the possibility of one of them telephoning, as it had been some time since one of them had dared to do so. With a sigh, he went to the back and answered.

“I am afraid we’re quite definitely closed.”

“B-brother Francis? Is that you?” asked a young human’s voice nervously on the other end.

_ Brother Francis? _

The nervous voice was somehow familiar and Aziraphale took a moment to place it.

“Oh, Warlock, is that you? How have you been, my dear?”

Through all the Armaggeddon business, Aziraphale had completely forgotten about the fact that he had given Warlock his number just in case he ever needed anything. Crowley and he had basically raised the kid, and it was only normal to have some level of concern for his well-being. Giving him the number allowed Warlock to decide whether he wanted to keep in touch. Aziraphale had only been the weird gardener, after all.

“Fine,” Warlock mumbled.

Aziraphale arched an eyebrow. Warlock’s voice was insecure, as if he was trying to convince himself of the answer. Part of Aziraphale’s mind realized his voice sounded a bit older now—how long had it been since the not quite End Of The World? Four years or so? Warlock should be around 15, then. How time flew by for mortals.

Either way, something was definitely wrong. Warlock seemed to be worried about something. All lingering annoyance about being called on such a peaceful day evaporated and was replaced with concern for the boy.

“What can I help you with?”

Warlock sighed but didn’t say anything. Aziraphale waited patiently. It seemed better not to push him; he had found the resolve to call, so he obviously wanted to talk about something. Still, Aziraphale knew that sometimes it was hard to actually start a conversation, so he figured he ought to give Warlock some space so he could collect his thoughts.

The boy blurted out after a moment of silence, “I think I’m gay.”

Aziraphale blinked, surprised by the sudden confession. “Alright.”

“Is that wrong?”

“Oh, of course not. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. Has anyone told you something so hideous?” Aziraphale tried to keep the fury out of his voice.

There was some sound on the other side of the call that Aziraphale couldn't quite place, as if Warlock was moving around. He waited again for an answer, considering the possibility of sending a miracle in Warlock’s general direction to keep any undesirable presence away from him.

“No, not really. It’s just that I don’t know if I’m gay or not.”

_ Oh. _ Aziraphale relaxed his shoulders, realizing now that he had been tensing them up. “I see.”

“And I didn’t know who I could ask about this. Not my parents, that’s for sure.”

Aziraphale remembered the Dowlings and grimaced.  _ No, surely not. _

“But then I remembered you gave me this number and I thought that maybe… I don’t know.”

Aziraphale smiled, understanding. “It’s fine. You can always talk to me if you need to and I’ll do my best to help.”

Warlock sighed, relieved, but then composed his voice to sound cool and uninterested. “Cool. Thanks.”

Aziraphale repressed a giggle.  _ Oh, Crowley would have been proud. _

“So, what exactly is troubling you?”

“Do you think I’m gay?”

“Well, I couldn’t possibly tell you. It’s up to you to decide, dear boy.”

Warlock groaned. “It’s just… It’s all so complicated. I don’t know anymore.”

Aziraphale changed the position of the phone to be a bit more comfortable, thinking about his next answer. It had always been difficult for him, talking to children, but doing so with teenagers added another level of complexity, especially about a serious subject such as this one.

“What made you think you’re gay, for a start? You don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not comfortable, of course.”

“It’s fine. I don’t know… I just see my friends, in school, talking about girls they like and such but I’ve never been interested in one. Some say I’m kinda weird and I tried to keep up with them but I’m just faking. So I thought that maybe I was gay.”

Aziraphale hummed. “I see. It’s completely fine for you to not be interested in girls, now or at any point. And it doesn’t necessarily mean you’re gay.”

“So what am I, then?” Warlock said, frustrated.

Aziraphale closed his eyes for a second as he ordered his thoughts. It was a difficult subject indeed. Warlock was confused and, as any other teenager, sensible. Growing up was a thing Aziraphale had always been fascinated with, as it seemed to be something that was quite hard to go through. And humans never stopped learning about their surroundings and themselves, so it was a constant process. Aziraphale could empathize to a certain degree, as angels and demons were able to change as well, even if it wasn’t a common trait.

_ But back to the matter at hand.  _ “As I said, it’s fine if you’re not interested. People grow at different paces, so it could be that it will simply happen later. But again, you could never be interested in girls and that’s also perfectly fine. It doesn’t necessarily imply being gay. There are many more experiences other than being gay or straight, and as many variations as there are people.”

“So how do I know what I am?” Warlock still sounded a bit confused, which was not at all surprising.

Aziraphale was glad he had made the decision to talk about it—the boy seemed a bit calmer now though, as he realised that his experience hadn’t been dismissed outright.

“Well, I guess this probably isn’t the answer you were expecting, but you don’t need to know or put a label on it. The most important thing is to try and be true to yourself above everything. It will likely also require a bit of patience, as you keep evolving and go through different experiences. Some people realize who they are early on, and that’s how they identify all their lives, while some others change and discover new parts of themselves over time. And, as I said, there’s also the possibility of simply choosing not to label your identity and just experience life as it comes.” Aziraphale took a deep breath, nervous about Warlock’s silence. “Does any of this make any sense to you? I’m afraid I’m just confusing you even more.”

“No, it’s fine. I kinda get what you mean. But I just wanna know now. It’s shitty having to think about it.”

“Language, dear.”

“Sorry.”

Aziraphale smiled fondly. He had missed the boy, he realized.

“But yes, I understand it’s not ideal. Believe me—you don’t have to figure things out immediately. Instead, you should simply let yourself _live_ and enjoy the world surrounding you. As you do so, you’ll slowly and naturally understand yourself better and, who knows, realization might simply hit you. Or it might not. Perhaps this will sound too philosophical to you but... isn’t the main purpose of life to be happy? It could be that you need to focus more on the things that bring you joy and try to accept that not everyone is like you and vice versa. It’s easier said than done but it’s a noble pursuit. Being true and patient to yourself is never a waste of time.”

Warlock fell silent, probably reflecting on what Aziraphale had said. The angel wondered if he had wandered a bit off track at some point in the conversation and worried that perhaps it was all a bit too theoretical to a teenager.

_ What did kids like these days? _

Warlock was probably thinking he was an old fart, not really answering his questions and instead going off about, what? Life and its purpose? Aziraphale repressed a sigh. Well, the boy had wanted to talk to him and no one could really blame Aziraphale for trying his best.

“So what you’re saying is, that I should play football with my friends and think about this stuff whenever I feel like it?”

“Yes! Exactly. Sort of. Sometimes things resolve themselves naturally if you don’t force them. And don’t listen to those friends, who might be trying to push you in any direction or to do things you don’t feel like.”

“Okay... But what if I don’t like what I am?” Warlock’s voice was tiny as if he had been afraid of posing the question.

Aziraphale wished he could make a nice cup of cocoa for Warlock to comfort him a bit. Alas, he would simply have to do so with his words. Aziraphale ran a finger through the phone’s cord as he thought about what to answer.

“It’s a process. Sometimes we feel like we can’t be who or what we want to be but a lot of the time it all comes down to expectations, be it those of others or our own. Trust me, I know. That’s why it’s so important to be patient with ourselves and think of it as a process, not something we just wake up accepting one day. Be it whatever it is. For some people, it’s easier than others but every experience is as valid as any other. It’s just a part of you, as natural as that you like football. There’s no reason to be afraid of a part of yourself. If you give yourself time and space you might find yourself in peace with it, if you just live your life. And wouldn’t that be wonderful? You don’t have to figure everything out right now but you shouldn’t close yourself to the possibility of finding an answer either.”

“Okay. I think I need to think about all of that for a bit.” Warlock’s voice was steadier and determined; Aziraphale was relieved to find that his words had resonated with Warlock.

At that moment, the ringing of a familiar bell came from the entrance. Aziraphale smiled and his heart fluttered slightly as steps approached the back room where he was.

“Of course. Remember that patience always pays off. You could even end up surprising yourself and finding something wonderful — and the travel there can be just as meaningful as the answer.”

A voice came from behind Aziraphale. The angel’s smile widened at it. “Hullo, angel. Sorry, I’m late.”

He turned around to greet his beloved visitor with a nod, pointing to the phone. Crowley nodded and walked towards him, briefly kissing him on the cheek. Aziraphale beamed at him and Crowley gifted him with a brief smile before dramatically dropping himself on his usual couch, wine bottle in hand.

“Brother Francis, is it fine if I call you again? And please don’t tell anyone about this. I might try messaging Nanny, too.”

Aziraphale arched an eyebrow and tried not to give Crowley a questioning look. Apparently, he hadn’t been the only one giving Warlock his number. Crowley really had a soft spot even if he hated it being pointed out. It warmed Aziraphale’s heart.

“It’s perfectly fine. I would love to keep in touch with you. And don’t worry about it, I promise to not tell a soul.”

“Thank you so much. Bye.”

“Goodbye, my dear.”

And Warlock hung up.

Aziraphale put the phone handle back to its place and turned around towards Crowley, who had somehow managed to sprawl his limbs across the entire length of the couch. He let himself reflect on the conversation with Warlock for a moment and on everything that he had experienced himself. It had been a long journey, yes, and it had been hard at times, but Aziraphale wouldn’t have changed one bit about it. He had learned so much and it had all been so worth it. To be able to stand where he was and be who he wanted to be and to finally let himself be on this side,  _ their _ side, with Crowley, loving him and free to love him in return. It was a gift that had been nearly impossible to accept, big as it was, but they deserved it. They had won the right to be together and to be happy, after everything that had happened.

“Well, dearest, how about we try that lovely vintage you brought?”

Crowley grinned and Aziraphale settled on the couch near him, putting Crowley’s legs on his lap.

The day had just gotten even nicer.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me as ineffabledemon666 on Tumblr and @_dreamsvalery on Twitter <3


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